


Get Off Easy

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Humor, Prostitution, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maddie poses as a hooker to extract Sam for a cover - they end up having to play into their covers harder than they anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Off Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle: Prompt: Burn Notice, Sam/Madeline, undercover, mojitos, tease

Sam Axe impatiently tapped his watch as he waited for his contact to stroll in. The kid was later than hell, but he’d expected it; he’d never known pimps to be reliable sorts. He eyed his surroundings; a topless girl was doing a headstand on the tacky, Hawaiian-decoration strewn bar, and in the corner two men were having their way with a barmaid. She giggled and dropped down on an exposed cock , seeming happy, but the crudity of the situation was doing nothing for Sam’s cock.

His quarry arrived, dragging someone behind him, a person entirely invisible behind the man’s bulk. “Yo, Mister Finley!” the eager, bright-eyed pimp sported an enormous cane and white ermine coat, looking like he’d stepped out of a Vanilla Ice video from twenty years ago. Sam masked his amusement professionally.

“Hey, Mac. Do you have my girl?” Sweet responded by taking the hand clinging to his wrist and spun the woman into view.

Sam barely managed to mask the horror: the woman – in a china doll-cut red wig and bright orange lipstick – was Maddie. 

“Hi!” she piped in a Brooklyn accent. “My name’s Ginger. Mister Sweet said you wanted a redhead.” She extended her index finger over the back of his hand as she settled in his lap. “I’m a new girl, but I bet I can teach you some tricks” she giggled, running her fingers through his grey hair. 

Sam laughed loudly to mask his confusion. “Hey…she looks like fresh meat.” He slapped her hip, then felt Maddie tense against his thighs and mentally counted out the price of the many Ice Babies he’d have to buy her by the time this was over. 

“Denver broke me in a few days ago, but I know my way around a fella.” She reached into her bead-spangled bag and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. “Do you smoke, baby? I do.” And then Maddie deliberately drew and released on her cigarette in a blatantly phallocentric display. Sam openly gawked at her, with a look that, he hoped, conveyed glazed lust.

It worked on the beaming Sweet. “Think I’ll leave you alone,” he said, strutting toward the other end of the bar – taking just a second to high-five the couple in the middle of their rapidly-concluding three way.  
“I thought Mike was gonna send Fi,” Sam stage-whispered into her neck.

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Into a sex club? I wouldn’t let him. They have enough problems.”

“Did he really break you in?” Sam worried.

She rolled her eyes. “Did all of that glitter floating around out here kill off some brain cells? Michael pretended to be my pimp and he ‘sold’ me to Sweet.”

“Jesus.”

“Stop worrying. We’ll get the goods on him and get Jesse out before you know it.”

“Right,” he laughed nervously.

“Yeah. You owe him a bottle of scotch.” She relaxed against Sam’s belly, only to jump when she felt his hand slide gently up her thigh. “What in the hell are you doing?”

Sam lifted his chin in Sweet’s direction. “Hey, no peeping, or I’m taking her back to the champagne room!” he shouted.

Sweets chortled in response, turning his alabaster-colored head toward the mini-skirted waitress who he’d been conversing with.

Madeline’s posture had relaxed somewhat, even though Sam’s hand had snaked further up her skirt and was rubbing her skin in a circular motion. “We’re gonna have to go pretty far with this, Mad,” he warned her. “But it’s what we’ve gotta do to save Jesse. Are you game?” 

“Fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Fine?”

“I didn’t volunteer to come in and save your ass just to go half-

“You’re okay with this? I’m feeling you up in front of a bunch of strangers.”

“So? I’m a hooker.”

“MADDIE!” 

She flicked open the gold cigarette case she’d been loaned for the occasion and gave him a dry look. “Do you want to live?” she glared down at him like he was an ant. Sam coughed around a mouthful of mojito, but nodded. “Then until Michael finishes wiring that safe in the back room to blow, I’m a hooker.”

Sam bobbed his head. “Right.” He then nuzzled the back of her neck while his hand made the final journey to her mons, stealing the tips of two fingers over her panties.

Madeline grumbled and squirmed in his lap. “Tease.”

“Is this turning you on?” She felt soft against his hands – not necessarily wet. He pulled his hand out of her skirt and up to his mouth, licking his index finger and returning it. 

Maddie shook her head and rubbed herself against his crotch. “You’re something else, Sam.”

“As long as I’m something,” he smirked. “None of this is doing it for you?” at various spots in the club, swingers, sex workers and were having private tet-a-tetes; men eagerly plowed between open thighs and women bounced happily in laps; men kissed men and women caressed women. It was a garden of spray-tanned silicone – a porn producer’s wet dream.

Madeline shook her head. “Only you.” Her breath puffed out in quick, rapid gasps as Sam’s fingers slid into and out of the rapidly tightening heat within her. She stubbed her cigarette out on the bartop, leaning backward into his chest. Sam removed his fingers with a gentle twist of his knuckles again and again, until her thighs spread apart and she hunched into his touch. “You’re safer.” Whatever that meant – it had her flowing for his hands. Shifting on his knees until he had to move his hand and she could hide her face against his neck, Maddie rubbed her breasts against his ribs, resting. He knew from the way she arched he orgasm she would have was for him, not for Sweet, or for any of the other voyeurs that surrounded them. 

Sam felt himself harden against her and couldn’t conjure shame or regret. Not when her need was so obvious. His hand returned to its spot between her legs, concentrated solely on her clitoris, his thumb a steady, stroking pressure against her flesh. Madeline’s orgasm came to her slowly, broaching her defenses, making her thighs tense and flex against his, her arms spasmodically squeezing

Maddie recovered herself quickly; she sat back and fixed her wig before squirming her panties (utter torture for Sam, but somehow he managed to keep himself still). She straightened her lipgloss and gave him a grin, then spun around on the stool.

On her way to the floor, she deliberately rubbed herself against his hard-on. “We’ll take care of that when you get home…”

“…But…”

“After you buy me dinner.”

“….Okay….” 

“AND fix the window you broke sneaking out.” A huge, percussive explosion echoed from the back room, setting the half-dressed club members into a state of confusion. “I think Michael’s done.” In the panicked rush for the door, Sam grabbed Sweet’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Sam shouted. “I’m taking your girl home.”

“Forget it, man - she’s all yours.” Sweet said, running for the exit. Just before he tripped out the front door on the hem of his coat, they heard him mutter, “damn, I got off easy. Who needs an old ho hanging around?”

Sam made sure that Sweet Dee was gone before locking eyes with Maddie and bursting out laughing.


End file.
